


i spend most nights awake (wide awake)

by orphan_account



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Sexual Tension, because of my ocd, except they haven’t seen each other in years, huidawn, i am once again projecting my faggotry onto gay men other than myself, i wrote this while i was high and didn’t proofread it so wtv it probably sux, lapslock, lapslock intentional, short read i wrote this in like a few hours, that trope where one of them is injured and the other patches them up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: i never thought that i, oh i would see the daywhere i’d just let you go, let you walk away(hwitaek and hyojong haven’t spoken in a while, and hwitaek can’t stop thinking about him.)
Relationships: Kim Hyojong | E'Dawn/Lee Hwitaek | Hui
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	i spend most nights awake (wide awake)

hwitaek doesn’t even bother looking at the clock; knows if he looks and realizes how late it really is, he’ll get tired and want to slow down. so he shoves down the deep, primal urge to slam his laptop shut and collapse in bed and instead just plays the track again. the same track he’s been editing and composing all night because of all the problems it has, all the imperfections that can’t quite be named but make it all just too...lifeless. the same lifeless boring track that he needs to turn in to his professor at the end of this week—not the next week, like he had thought the due date was. and as he plays that same track again, it just makes him angry. 

hwitaek rips off his headphones and shoves his face in his hands, feeling how his eyes burn as he takes a deep, heavy breath. his hands slide up through his hair, his tense fingers grabbing fist-fulls of his bangs, that rotten feeling of failure toiling slowly in the pit of his stomach. and his eyes well up in tears as he realizes that rotten feeling isn’t alone; that his chest feels sunken and cold, that his thoughts are fleeting and running back through the past. and he recognizes it, before his conscious mind can even turn it into a thought. he feels it in every corner of his soul. 

‘i miss hyojong.’

he sighs, frustrated with himself. he knows this feeling so well. spends most of his days and nights just missing hyojong. and it’s frustrating; it’s infuriating. it’s been years since they spoke to each other. they still see each other every day. they even have a few classes together.

hwitaek doesn’t even know why he cares so much. they were in high school, he was older, he was gonna graduate sooner. it’s not like it came as a surprise. it wasn’t a tragedy. it was just life. hwitaek had to leave behind his childhood best friend of many years to go to college. 

and they were best friends. they spent every living second together; they knew each other better than any other person on the whole earth. they knew they were going to see each other again. they both loved music, producing it, composing it, playing it, everything about it. they worked on songs together all the time. hyojong was a genius, hwitaek always knew. which is why he thought of him now. they planned on going to the same college. hwitaek, in his cap and gown and all, hugging hyojong tight with his diploma in hand, had said, “i’m going to miss you so much.” hyojong had laughed, sweet and lively like always, before squeezing hwitaek closer. 

“you know i’ll see you again.”

then summer came around, and they simply fell out of touch. hwitaek was working. hyojong got a girlfriend and was pretty distracted with that for a while. they just stopped talking. and when hyojong made it to college, neither of them made the effort to say hello. but it wasn’t a huge deal; it happens to people all the time. of course it wasn’t easy, but it’s not like anyone died or anything. shit happens, life moves on. except hwitaek couldn’t move on, and he doesn’t know why that boy still plagues his fucking mind. 

it’s because he fell in love with hyojong, of course. but he doesn’t know that. but there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know. 

so hwitaek just closes his eyes and slumps deep down into the cushion of his seat, finally glancing at the clock. 03:42. he notices for the first time the gentle patter of rain against his window. 

he can work on the song tomorrow. sleep sounds too good right now. 

he stands on weak legs, his head feeling fuzzy as he rises to his feet too fast. he reaches for his water bottle, quickly realizing that it’s empty. he groans loudly, his shoulders slumping. he’s too tired for this. he grabs his water and makes way out of his dorm and toward the bathrooms. 

he should’ve expected it, seeing as it’s past 3 am and all, but the hallway is shockingly quiet. he can hear himself breathe, and every creak of his steps in the ancient carpeting makes him a little more uneasy. what makes him the most nervous though, is as he approaches the bathroom, he can see the light on. he can hear someone inside. before stepping in, he sighs lightly. he was definitely hoping no one would be there to judge him for filling up his water bottle with tap water and just leaving. but whatever. it’s late, there’s a large chance they’re doing something weirder. 

hwitaek enters quietly. there’s someone standing at the sink with their head low, the water running gently over their hands. hwitaek straightens and approaches the sink silently. he turns on the tap and shoves the mouth of his bottle under the stream of cold water. the stranger flinches. he must not have heard him come in. hwitaek glances at him; does a double-take immediately. the latter is nursing his hand in the sink, gently rubbing away at bruised, bloody knuckles, the water running pink. 

hwitaek’s eyes blow wide open. he quickly directs his gaze to the man’s face, and, for a fleeting moment, he thinks he’s dreaming, or hallucinating or something. 

the man raises his eyes to meet hwitaek’s. there’s a long, tense silence, so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. 

“...hyojong.”

hyojong stays silent. he just smirks that little smirk of his. well, as best as he can with a black eye and a busted lip. but its such a hyojong thing to do. so familiar so instantly that hwitaek wonders if they ever were apart. 

“what happened to you? it’s late as hell.” hwitaek says with as much sternness as he can muster (which is definitely overpowered by his evident concern). hyojong smiles again, wider this time.

“it’s a friday night, i was out. i got in a fight.”

“a fight? with who?” hwitaek whines, abandoning his bottle in the sink to grab hyojong’s shoulders. he leans in to examine hyojong’s injuries, and the proximity is immediately suffocating. 

“i don’t know. nobody. i was out with friends, we were at a club. it wasn’t a gay club, i was dancing with a guy. some douche called us fags so i beat his ass.”

hwitaek pouts; like, genuinely. “oh, jongie...i’m sorry.”

hyojong smiles a little; warm and pretty. hwitaek shakes his head. 

“looks like he beat your ass, too.” hwitaek says, vaguely gesturing to hyojong’s face; his cheek and his nose were bleeding, too. hyojong cocks his head to the side, his orange-dyed hair falling over his eyes. 

“he got me a few times. i still won though.”

hwitaek huffs a laugh, looking at hyojong with endeared eyes. 

“you won, huh? what did you to to qualify as the ‘winner?’” hwitaek says, air quotes and all. hyojong glances at him. he looks at him a little funny. it makes the air sit incredibly still for some reason. 

“i killed him.”

for a few seconds, hwitaek doesn’t really do or think of anything. then this horrible clawing feeling of fear shoots through his every nerve. his eyes blow impossibly wide, and he freezes completely in place. all the while hyojong just stares at him. and then breaks into a smile. although it’s — not scary. it’s hyojongs small, usual smirk, warm and pretty as always. and then he breaks into laughter. hwitaek can’t tell what he’s feeling, or if he’s feeling anything at all. 

“i’m kidding. i didn’t kill anybody. please don’t look at me like that, that was heartbreaking.”

hwitaek releases his breath, and feels like he’s standing on earth again. 

“dawnie, you motherfucker, you scared the shit out of me! you sounded so serious!” hwitaek says, finally releasing his tense body and letting his head fall on hyojong’s shoulder. the latter quickly encases him in his arms, drawing their bodies close, hwitaek’s head sliding to rest in the crook of his neck. hyojong sighs heavily. 

“i missed you, hui. you’re the only person who calls me dawnie. i missed you a lot.”

hwitaek feels his heart do backflips in his chest and rattle around in his ribs like it was trying to be obvious. he huffed out a shaky sigh, drawing hyojong closer. 

“i missed you too. a lot. am i really the only one who calls you that?”

“duh, it was just our thing,” hyojong says, pulling away to look hwitaek in the eyes, “you remember, don’t you?”

“of course i remember! i just thought it would’ve rubbed off on someone else at some point. i called you dawnie all the time.”

hyojong’s eyes glint for a moment, and his lips slowly break into a wide smile, his eyes squinting closed. hwitaek smiles back, the beat of his heart light and fluttery. 

hyojong winces, his hand immediately nursing his busted lip. he sighs hard, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“i don’t have shit back at my dorm to deal with this.”

hwitaek frowns. 

“you don’t have a basic first aide kit? what, are you crazy?”

hyojong chuckles at the elder lightly. hwitaek furrows his brows. 

“you’re a dumbass,” he says, retrieving his now half empty water bottle from the sink and screwing the cap on before heading to the door, “come with me. i can fix you up.”

hyojong’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze sparkling with something nameless. 

“really? you sure?”

“you know me. i got my mind all made up. plus, i know you would probably just rinse off in the sink and sleep on it. you don’t want your face to scar.”

“scars are kinda cool though.”

“just trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

hwitaek grabs hyojong’s hand and pulls him along to his dorm. they proceed silently. it’s still a little tense. what can you do. it’s been a while.

hwitaek opens his door and steps aside to let hyojong inside. he bows slightly as he walks through, a hint of a smile ghosting on his lips. hwitaek closes the door behind them and leads them to his bunk. 

hyojong sits on the bed as hwitaek opens a drawer, where he keeps his general first aide stuff. 

they spend a moment in general silence while hwitaek wets a clean cloth with his water bottle. as he rings out the cloth he can feel hyojong watching him. neither of them say anything or make any eye contact. the room feels too small. 

hwitaek rings the cloth out one last time, folding it. he takes a small, nervous breath before he positions himself in front of hyojong. the latter stares up at him through his lashes, leaning into hwitaek’s space. the elder grabs his chin and tilts his face up. hyojong’s eyes glitter for a moment. 

“this might hurt,” hwitaek raises the cloth to hyojong’s face, “sorry.”

hyojong grunts passively. he startles slightly under the touch of the cloth, but eases quickly. hwitaek dabs at the blood dried on his cheek, cupping his face gently. hyojong melts into his touch. hwitaek gulps, his throat clicking as he moves to wipe at the blood on hyojong’s nose. 

the younger remains still. his eyes flutter closed at some point. hwitaek’s hand slides down hyojong’s face to hold his chin again, and he tries to chase hwitaek’s touch. the elder presses the cloth to hyojong’s bloody busted lip. hyojong winces slightly. 

“sorry,” hwitaek whispers, pressing his finger to hyojong’s lip. he suddenly becomes aware of how close they are. hyojong stares at him hard, his eyes pinning him in place. hwitaek can’t tear his gaze off of hyojong’s lips. the latter swallows, just loud enough for hwitaek to hear. 

“hui.” he whispers, barely audible. 

hwitaek practically springs away from him, returning to the drawer. hyojong remains with his chin tilted, his lips parted. he blinks slowly as hwitaek dips a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol with shaky hands. 

hwitaek repositions himself in front of hyojong, who’s still frozen, so his fingers slide into place all too naturally. the faintest essence of a grin twitches through hyojong’s lips. so small, yet hwitaek notices. of course he notices. he realizes how obvious he’s being. he’s holding his breath. he knows he is. he knows that hyojong knows too. 

“this is probably gonna hurt more,” hwitaek’s voice comes out unexpectedly deep, “sorry.”

hyojong stares at him in a way he never has before. hwitaek feels like he’s being really...looked at. he feels vulnerable. 

hwitaek dabs the cotton ball to the wound on his cheek, and hyojong only twitches a little bit. a few presses in and he doesn’t twitch at all. hwitaek dabs at it more than he needs too, but he’s stalling. 

hwitaek suddenly feels hyojong’s hand on the side of his leg. he jolts under it, his breath catching right before his lips. hyojong’s thumb runs across his thigh, and his heart skips so hard he briefly wonders if he’ll die, right here, in kim hyojong’s fucking arms. he shakes his head and grins, his lip caught just slightly under his teeth as he refocuses himself. 

finally, he moves to hyojong’s lip. he grabs hyojong’s chin and tilts his head higher, and the room is immediately tense. the air is so still; neither of them are breathing. 

he proceeds to dab the cotton ball to hyojong’s lip, his hand shaking. hyojong winces slightly as first but quickly eases. then, as slowly as he fucking can just to be a sadistic bastard, hyojong widens the part of his lips, his back arching him in closer. his hand doesn’t leave hwitaek’s leg; his grip tightens, only slightly, but enough for hwitaek to feel it. and he really feels it. goosebumps run up the back of his neck.

there’s so much hyojong all right here in hwitaek’s hands, his pretty little face and his rosy cheeks and glittery eyes looking up at him like that — god. he sucks in a breath; the air feels so heavy. 

“you’re gonna wanna cover the cheek over night,” hwitaek says as he pulls away from hyojong and moves back to the desk, his voice thin, delicate, “and ice your eye or something.”

hwitaek gathers a bandaid and a tube of antibiotic ointment. he looks back to hyojong over his arm. he’s leaning back on his palms, his long bangs astray across his face. his leg is bouncing; he’s nervous. his eyes keep darting back and forth between hwitaek and the floor. 

his head perks up and his eyes glint as hwitaek crowds him again. hyojong stares up at him; his pretty face a chiaroscuro in the light of the ancient dorm lamp’s lighting. hyojong’s hands instinctively hover over hwitaek’s body; wanting to touch, but not certain enough to do so. hwitaek’s breaths are short and his finger shakes as he extends it to the mouth of the antibiotic’s tube. he puts the contents down and stares at hyojong for a second. he gulps, treading dangerously closer. his knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he climbs onto the bed, his legs straddled around hyojong’s, and he cautiously lowers himself into his lap. 

hyojong’s mouth gapes, his cheeks flushing red as hell, and he grins up at hwitaek’s nervous pout, his hands finally landing on his body, running up and down hwitaek’s thighs. 

the elder shivers, his breath shuddering, and he proceeds to crowd impossibly close before applying the antibiotic to hyojong’s cheek injury. they sit terrifyingly still for a moment, so close they can feel every breath as it leaves the other’s lips. hwitaek gulps audibly, and it embarrasses him slightly. 

“is, um,” hwitaek’s breath catches as hyojong’s grip tightens on his thigh, “is this okay?” his voice is breathy, nearly a whisper. hyojong laughs, it echoes out of a deep part of his chest, and he grabs hwitaek’s waist, his hands settling prettily on the elder’s slender frame. he presses his forehead against hwitaek’s collar bone, running his hands down, under, and up his shirt, his warm fingertips sliding slowly along the curve of his bare skin. 

hwitaek’s back arches, shoving his body flush against hyojong’s. he clings to his shoulders, gasping for air, his face burning. hyojong’s hands slide over his ass, and he barely chokes back a squeak, gripping his shoulders hard. the latter grins slightly, pulling his face out of hwitaek’s chest to look him in the eyes. the eye contact is so tense that he briefly forgets that anything other than hyojong exists. 

“anything you do is okay.”

hwitaek blushes at that and busies himself with finishing applying the antibiotic. he pats his finger against hyojong’s cheek, and he smiles warmly. he quickly leans forward and presses a kiss to hwitaek’s neck, and he squirms in hyojong’s lap, gasping so softly as his lips grace his skin. hyojong pulls away and smiles again, sweet and perfect. his hands land on hwitaek’s hips again, grabbing him and pulling their bodies closer together. hwitaek gasps, louder this time, as he tries helplessly to smear some antibiotic on hyojong’s lip injury. 

hyojong runs his hands far up under hwitaek’s shirt, trailing his fingertips over his warm skin, and his eyes flutter closed as the latter’s finger touches his lip. he immediately kisses it; turns his face into hwitaek’s hand and kisses his palm. he sighs, cleaning his finger off with the cloth. 

“you’re no help, you know.” hwitaek says, audibly breathless, his voice high and airy. hyojong pouts childishly. 

“aren’t you done yet, hyung?”

“no, i’m not, actually. i said you need to cover your cheek.” hwitaek retorts, opening the bandaid. 

he positions it over hyojong’s cheek wound, leaning entirely closer than he needs to. he sticks it to his skin, patting it down gently. hyojong suddenly wraps both arms around hwitaek’s waist, drawing him closer. 

“hui-hyungie,” hyojong says, so delicately, “can i please kiss you?”

hwitaek has to stop himself from making...some kind of gibberish noise. 

“no. we can’t kiss. your lip is busted.”

hyojong grabs hwitaek’s face and, suddenly, they’re very close. they feel each other’s breath on their lips. hyojong’s eyes dart down to hwitaek’s mouth. 

“i don’t care about my lip,” hyojong whispers, still finding a way to lean impossibly closer, “please, can i kiss you?”

without even thinking, hwitaek nods jerkily, his heart pounding loudly in his ears, and then it happens. time feels like it stops, and their surroundings melt away as hyojong pulls hwitaek’s face into his, and their lips touch.

years of pining and deep admiration and desperate longing collects at the touch of their lips. hyojong’s hands card through hwitaek’s hair, grabbing it in fistfuls; and hwitaek feels alive for the very first time, his skin electric, pressing his mouth harder to hyojong’s. 

he smiles against hwitaek, taking the latter’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently. hwitaek nearly goes completely weak in hyojong’s lap, a groan ringing through his throat. hyojong pulls away and presses kisses to hwitaek’s neck. 

“god, jongie. you’re driving me crazy.” hwitaek nearly whimpers, his hips twitching. hyojong grins against his skin. 

“i missed you so much.” hwitaek breathes, his voice high and fragile. hyojong kisses him on his pink lips, so gentle and sweet, and both their eyes flutter closed. they pull away only barely, their lips still ghosting over each other. hyojong smiles, his eyes bright. 

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to kiss you, hwitaek-hyung.” he whispers, his lips connecting with hwitaek’s again. he hums, pulling away. 

“why did you stop talking to me then, you brat. you never said hi when you got here. i thought you hated me.” hwitaek says shakily, his eyes shining and his cheeks flushed. hyojong kisses him again. 

“the summer we lost contact — i had realized i was bisexual. and i had realized i was in love with you. i tried so hard to reject it that i stopped reaching out. but i missed you too much. it was too late, though. i had already cut the ties. i was too scared to do anything after that.”

hwitaek interrupts him to kiss him. hyojong continues. 

“also, your glare is scary.”

hwitaek gasps. 

“i glared at you?!”

“yeah, occasionally.”

hwitaek shoves his face in hyojong’s shoulder. 

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to. i was kinda mad at you, only a little bit, but mostly i was just mad at myself. i missed you so much, dawnie.”

hyojong runs his hands up hwitaek’s back, pressing kisses to his temple. 

“it’s okay. god, you’re so pretty.”

hwitaek blushes, nestling his head into hyojong’s neck, kissing the skin there. hyojong hugs him, their chests pressing together, and they just share the air for a moment. hwitaek’s heart is pounding so hard. hyojong inhales, sighing heavily, kissing hwitaek again swiftly. 

“can i stay the night?” hyojong asks quietly. hwitaek sighs. 

“no, you can’t. you know we aren’t gonna sleep if you stay.”

hyojong grins, and winks. hwitaek tries helplessly to seem unaffected by it. 

“i’m tired. and you need to ice that eye and get some sleep.”

hyojong frowns, groaning. his face softens as he kisses hwitaek. they get distracted for a few minutes before hwitaek finally pulls himself out of hyojong’s lap. 

“here, i’ll walk you to your dorm. lead the way.”

hyojong rose to his feet with a grin on his lips, walking ahead, grabbing hwitaek’s hand and pulling him along. 

the walk to hyojong’s dorm room shouldn’t take long, in theory. they’re in the same building and all. but they make it take...much longer than necessary. they tend to get distracted with pinning each other to the walls, kissing each other breathless. 

they stumble finally to hyojong’s dorm. hyojong presses hwitaek’s back against the door, sucking on his neck. the elder presses his hand over his mouth to keep from making noises. 

hyojong pulls away, and a grin spreads across his face. hwitaek gasps. 

“did you give me a hickey?!”

“maybe a little bit.”

hwitaek pushes him away with a playful smile. 

“you fucker.”

hyojong chuckles, his laughter sweet. he plants a gentle kiss on hwitaek’s kiss-swollen lips, and they lock eyes. 

“marking my territory.”

“gross.”

“you’re mine, hyung.” hyojong says against hwitaek’s lips. the elder pushes him away, softly. a smile grows on his face. he links his arms around hyojong’s neck. 

“all yours.” he breathes, his fingers carding through hyojong’s hair. the latter presses closer, his eyelids fluttering. 

hwitaek pulls away, freeing himself from hyojong’s arms. the younger whines, frowning at hwitaek. 

“i need to go. you need to go to sleep.” hwitaek whispers. he steps back into hyojong’s space. 

“goodnight kiss.” he says simply, and hyojong smiles. he leans in and kisses hwitaek hard, taking his breath away. his tongue prods cautiously at hwitaek’s bottom lip, and the elder’s heart shudders, his mouth parting expectantly. 

their tongues collide and hwitaek feels light headed. 

“oh god,” he whimpers into hyojong’s open-mouthed kisses. hyojong nibbles on his bottom lip, making electricity shoot through his veins. 

“stay with me, please hyung.” hyojong begs innocently, his voice sweet as ever. hwitaek sighs, thinking. he stares at hyojong’s foggy eyes for just a few moments before he shrugs. 

“fuck it.” he breathes, crashing their lips together. 

they continue to kiss passionately in the hall. hyojong fumbles with the doorknob with dumb hands as he tries to get them somewhere more appropriate. 

finally, the door flings open. hyojong guides hwitaek inside by the lips, and they laugh against each other’s mouths briefly as the door comes to a close behind them.

their voices fade away as they disappear into the room. the hallway falls silent.

**Author's Note:**

> hey tell me what u think if u want, comments and kudos always appreciated !! thx for reading bae 👨❤️💋👨


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